


Darkness

by knlalla



Series: Demons and Diners [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Depression, Dogs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Supernatural Elements, demon!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-13 13:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: It's been a month since Phil rescued Dan from the aether, and everything's...perfect?TW descriptions of depression





	1. Nightmares

I sit up abruptly, breathing as if I just ran a marathon. Cool sweat has the sheets slowly peeling from my skin, and it takes me a few seconds to remember where I am and how I got here. I extend a shaking hand toward the shape beside me, but it sits up before I can touch it.

 

“Another nightmare?” Phil’s voice is soft as he wraps me in a hug, and I nod into his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head. It was another one of the torturing ones - Phil and I have talked quite a bit about both our pasts, but I haven’t...I can’t talk about that yet. That’s far too deep a wound to rip open right now.

 

It’s been about a month since we started this little game, where he’d tell me something and I’d reciprocate with a fact about myself, or a memory. Though most of the exchanges have been on the light side, he’s talked about a few clearly tough topics, including his parents and what had happened to them - something tragic that he couldn’t figure out how to fully explain; I don’t think I truly understood the implications. 

 

It’s also been about a month since the ‘incident’, as everyone keeps calling it. I still get pitying looks from the people who don’t know me well, and it’s starting to grate on my nerves. At least Louise, Chris, and PJ have stopped asking if I’m okay. Aside from an increase in nightmares, which I fully blame on that surprise panic attack, I’m perfectly normal. 

 

“Okay, that’s fine, do you want to take a walk?” Phil’s voice brings me back to the present, along with the gentle circles he’s rubbing into my back, and I shudder involuntarily; with the sheets and duvet now pooled in my lap, my sweat-slicked torso is freezing. I take a steadying breath, glad to find my fears have receded for the time being.

 

“No, no, I think I’m alright,” I pull away from him, and his eyes flash in the dim light - fully blue, he’s not snooping inside my head. “I think we can just go back to bed.” He nods, wrapping me in his arms again as we lay back onto the pillows. Sometimes, when I can’t get the - figurative - demons out of my head, we’ll take a walk through the mansion, and Phil will show me some room that I’ve yet to discover in order to distract me.

 

But tonight...tonight I’m alright, I think. 

 

\----------------------------

 

I wake to the sharp scent of cedar in my nose, and furrow my brows in confusion before I’ve even opened my eyes. 

 

“Hey, sleepyhead! I know you woke up last night, but we went right back to bed. You should be fully rested!” Phil’s voice echoes around the bathroom and out to me, and I smile. Then I recall the cedar, and I stretch exaggeratedly before standing to join him in the bathroom.

 

“New aftershave or something?” I question, and he gives me a sideways glance before returning to brushing his teeth.  _ Brushing his teeth? _ I sniff experimentally, but the cedar isn’t coming from here. Ignoring the way Phil’s gaze follows me out into the room, I flop back onto the bed and take another whiff. I could swear there’s a faint scent of something woodsy, but I can’t really pin it to cedar anymore, and now it’s barely even there at all.  _ Maybe it was part of a dream? _

 

“Hey, I have a few errands to run today - will you be okay on your own?” I suppress a groan, but do allow myself a full eye-roll.  _ I’ll never escape this overprotective hell _ . I think it for half a second before a smirk crosses my features at the unintentional pun.  _ Well, I’ll never escape the helicopter boyfriend, anyway. Not that I really want to _ . By the time my thoughts have run their course, I’m smiling; any trace of annoyance has dissolved into thin air.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m hanging out with Peej today, remember?” I had gone to him awhile back, after Chris let it slip that Phil’s birthday was on Monday. Which left me only today and tomorrow to get him a gift.  _ Though nobody will tell me how old he is... _ I’d tried to pry it out of Chris, but he claimed to have no idea. PJ was another story - despite his notoriety as a gossip, he flat out refused to tell me the moment I approached him. At least I’d managed to convince him to take me shopping today.

 

We’re going to some kind of demon-Hell-mall, supposedly, and PJ had promised it wouldn’t involve going into the aether - just a quick jump through a portal.

 

“Right! Okay, please be careful,” Phil steps out of the bathroom and plants a soft kiss on the top of my head. He’s been incredibly affectionate since he rescued me from the aether, and I’m not sure if I love it or if it stresses me out - it’s slowly becoming a reminder of how badly I fucked up, and how... _ pathetic _ I must seem to him. To  _ everyone _ .

 

“Of course, Peej would never let anything happen to me.” To be fair, though, we haven’t really mentioned to Phil what we’re doing today.  _ I hope he won’t be pissed if he finds out it involves going somewhere outside the diner _ .

 

I push the thought from my head, then wave quickly to Phil - who’s still getting ready - before trekking down the corridor to my room. After a shower - thanks to the small bathroom Phil had insisted on adding - I’m back in the hall and heading toward PJ’s room. I knock twice, then call through the door.

 

“Hey, Peej, it’s ten. Are you ready to go?” I keep my voice low, trying to somehow project my words  _ through _ the door so Phil won’t hear from down the hall.

 

“ _ Uhh….give me like five minutes, then meet me, uh...wait, no, meet me in the...stairwell? _ ” I’m about to ask why the fuck we’re meeting in the stairwell when I hear another voice from inside.  _ Ooookay that’s my cue to get out of here _ .

 

“Yeah, sure, see you then!” I shout back, rushing off down the hall. Though I have no reason for it, I’m blushing slightly.  _ It’s not like Phil and I are so innocent _ . 

 

I stop once I’ve made it into the stairwell - well, I freeze, really. It’s been awhile since I’ve been in here in daylight, and the walls have been painted with a breathtaking mural that snakes its way up to the top floor. I step forward cautiously, as if too much movement will somehow shatter the image. When I’m close to the first set of stairs, I take it in - it’s a forested scene, full of deep green trees and a navy blue sky. Pinpricks of white, some bright and some so dim they seem to be fading in and out of the mural itself, sit against the night sky. I reach a finger out, intent on trailing it across the tree line, just to see if the branches are real.  _ They look it, as if I could feel each leaf and pine needle, each branch, the rough bark of each trunk _ . 

  
I pull my fingers back with a start when PJ bursts into the stairwell, looking unusually disheveled. Before I can ask - or, rather,  _ not _ ask, given the nature of the delay - he’s thrown up a portal with a pop and is dragging me through.


	2. Projecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's birthday's coming up, and PJ takes Dan shopping

“Sorry about that!” He announces once we’ve made it to the other side. I lean on a brick wall, fighting against a wave of nausea.  _ This would be why Chris never takes portals, got it _ .

 

I hold up a hand, and he waits patiently for me to regain composure. “No big deal,” I force out, swallowing thickly.

 

“Sorry, again,” he holds up two fingers. “A second apology, first because I was late and also because I didn’t have time to prepare you for that portal,” he runs a hand through his messy hair, and I must look confused. “Right, Phil was walking this way, and I had to get us out before he got to the stairwell.” I nod, suddenly remembering the beautiful mural.

 

“Hey, Peej,” I start, but he grabs my arm, dragging me off down the alley we’ve appeared in. I hear the portal pop shut behind us, and it takes me a second to realize we’re somewhere else entirely. And it most  _ certainly _ isn’t a mall…

 

“Welcome to the Underground,” he announces, sweeping a hand as we emerge into a long, meandering street lined with shops and pop-up stalls. “You can get just about anything, from just about any dimension, right here,” he looks immensely proud of himself, but the best I can manage is a wary half-smile as I take in the scene.

 

It could easily be a trading market from medieval London if not for all the modern technology on display - LED signs, booths with the latest and greatest phones and tablets, even some flat-screen TVs. But far more common are the objects I  _ don’t  _ recognize: strange creatures in carryable cages, floating orbs of every color, and…

 

“Please don’t tell me that’s a fucking  _ flying carpet _ ,” I whisper as we pass the stall - it’s set up with several tapestry-like rugs hanging from the roof, plus a few that hover six inches off the ground and wave lightly, as if blown by a soft breeze.

 

“Of course! Surely you have those, up there?” He sounds serious, and I blink at him a few times before laughing. Loudly, I realize, and clamp a hand over my mouth.

 

“Not exactly, unless you count animated movies,” he gives me a strange look, like  _ I’m _ the crazy one.  _ Aladdin was always my favorite, though _ . I turn back to the stall for just a moment before PJ drags me toward a shop.

 

This one’s a full brick-and-mortar shop in every sense of the term, and the entrance is framed by two identical stalls selling very similar articles of clothing. Oddly enough, the women manning the stalls look as though they could be twins. I try not to stare as we pass, but they both fix me with unnervingly intense gazes.

 

“Okay, here we are!” PJ announces as the door shuts behind us. I blink into the space, which is surprisingly bright given the darkened entryway. It’s…

 

“Are we in a  _ pet shop _ ?” I ask, incredulous.  _ This was PJ’s big plan, to get Phil a pet? _ “I didn’t even realize Phil wanted a pet,” I trail off.  _ Granted, I barely know anything about him, even now. _ I twist my lips at that, turning toward PJ.

 

“Absolutely! He rarely talks about it, because he lost...well, let’s just say Elizabeth took some of her anger out on more than just Phil.” I nod solemnly at this - though Phil refuses to tiptoe much around some of the difficult things from his past, I know Elizabeth is still a sore subject.

 

“Okay, well...since you know more than I do, what kind of pet?” I scan the shop, eyes going wide at the variety of animals on display - sure, there are puppies and kittens, lizards, hamsters, and the like, but... _ is that a fucking  _ dragon _?  _

 

“Yes, it is, but that’s not really Phil’s kind of pet. Let’s see…” I realize PJ’s read my mind again, though it doesn’t really phase me for something so insignificant. Especially when the tiny gold dragon I’m staring at lets out a small puff of smoke, making me cough. I look up to find PJ’s drifted farther down the aisle, chatting with a demon who must be an employee, because they’re wearing a bright red shirt with an embossed logo. No pants, though, just a pair of goat legs. 

 

“Okay, Dan, come on!” PJ calls at me, and I pick up the pace. Though I try to stay focused on our mission, I’m thoroughly distracted by all the creatures along the way - brightly colored fish, something that looks to be a baby kraken, and a kind of shimmering, rainbow leech all stare back at me from the myriad tanks we pass as we move deeper into the shop.

 

Much like Phil’s diner, this place seems impossibly large for such a tiny building - not that this is new to me, but the fact that I can’t really see the shop entrance when I look back is suddenly unnerving. I do my best to let the creatures continue to occupy my thoughts.

 

We begin passing a few habitat-like areas - a desert, a jungle, a tundra - before pausing by what looks to be a volcanic hell-scape.  _ Perfect _ , I grin, the image of Phil’s full demonic form flashing in my head. The employee holds a finger up at us both, and PJ nods as they walk away.

 

“They need to get the keys, they’ll be back in just a minute,” I nod, then furrow my brows in confusion.  _ There’s no… _ ”Right, no gate,” PJ confirms. “Or door. It’s a magical seal with a magical key, which they’ve got grab so we can go in,” at this, I nod more confidently, then turn to scan my surroundings. 

 

Across the way from us is another habitat, one I hadn’t noticed on our walk over. This one’s not far from the jungle section, logically: a forest. Though there aren’t any visible animals - they must all be hiding - I can see some shifting shadows in the shade of the pines, and I’m intrigued by the soft curling of fog that extends out toward the edge.

 

I only turn my attention back to the hell-scape when a strange zing interrupts my thoughts. PJ’s giving me an odd look, but the employee is ushering us both inside the habitat before I can ask.

 

I’m extremely pleased that the temperature isn’t obscenely hot - I was expecting to literally sweat my ass off, if we’re standing next to a giant volcano.

 

“No, it’s well-controlled,” PJ comments, and I roll my eyes. _ Maybe a little less mind reading, a little more pet searching? _ “Unlike your boyfriend, I can’t turn it off when you’re projecting so much,” he scoffs, then turns toward a collection of small animals closer to the volcano.

 

“I’m not projecting,” I mumble, setting off in the opposite direction. My cheeks are flushed from the ‘boyfriend’ comment, though, and I wish I could blame the heat of the habitat.  _ I mean, it’s not some big secret... _ Instead of letting it get to me, I find myself focusing intently on the area, looking for any pets that I think might suit Phil.  _ What would he like? I didn’t even ask PJ what his last pet was… _

 

As I walk, I ponder everything I know about Phil. And try to keep it tame, in case I’m  _ projecting _ enough for PJ to hear. I think about his personality, how caring he is, how important his hodgepodge family and the diner are. He’s very relaxed most of the time, but can occasionally get more easily flustered than PJ; but above all, he would kill - literally - to defend the people he loves.

 

I look up from my thoughts and wandering when I feel a tug at the hem of my jeans - it’s a small puppy, by the looks of him, but he’s a bit...Cerberus-esque. One of his heads is tugging at my pant leg, another is panting and staring up at me, and the last is watching PJ as he crosses the cracked lava rock toward me.

 

“Hello,” I say softly, bending down to the tiny thing. He’s some color between brown and black, a deep shade that almost blends right into the rock beneath us, and it takes me until I pet him to feel two leathery wings arching out from his back.  _ Perfect, he’s definitely the one _ . I smile, scratching the head of the pup that had been chewing my jeans. 

 

The one staring at PJ turns toward me sharply, tilting his head in confusion.

 

_ You speak? _ I almost yelp when I hear the voice in my head, one that I know isn’t PJ’s but  _ certainly _ doesn’t match the puppy-like appearance of the animal at my feet. 

 

_ Uh... _ you _ speak? _ I ask it back and it barks once at me. I blink at it for several moments before the soft nuzzling of the head I’d been petting makes me turn.

 

“Uh, do  _ all _ of you speak?” I ask the dog, trying to address all three heads, and a rough laugh sounds in my head. 

 

_ No, just me. My brothers have other talents _ . I nod, because  _ sure, _ why not a magical Cerberus puppy - puppies? - who can fly and talk in my head?

 

_ You’re taking us to Phil, yes?  _ I scrunch my face at the voice inside my mind, still unused to it, then nod at the tiny dogs.

 

“How did you…” I glance up to see PJ hovering over us, smiling brightly.  _ Well, I look like a right idiot _ . I stand, and PJ laughs.

 

“You don’t, but I can guess you’ve never met one of these little guys before,” when I shake my head, he reaches down to scratch the ears of the psychic pup. “Hello, Zilant.” The first puppy wiggles his ears, and the one in the middle sneezes.

 

And, because - once again -  _ why not _ ? He breathes fucking  _ fire _ . And it nearly hits my shoe.

 

“Fireball, what a creative name,” PJ chuckles - clearly he and Zilant are having quite a lovely conversation.  _ I suppose it makes sense, it must be easier to communicate with someone who already has similar abilities _ .

 

“And Mack, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you all,” PJ nods, and the final puppy looks up as his name is mentioned. 

 

“How did, uh,” I pause, head on swivel between PJ and the dogs. “How did you guys know about Phil?” I ask, hoping it’s not some silly, obvious question to be asking.

 

“You were thinking about him,” PJ smiles, and I realize he’s speaking for the dogs. A soft rustle catches my attention, and I turn back to see them flapping their wings and pawing at the ground. “Looks like these little guys are ready to go home. Shall we?” PJ stands, and I follow him back to the magic barrier. The dogs follow behind, though Mack keeps getting distracted by everything we pass.

 

The employee looks surprised as we exit the hell-scape with the pups in tow, but he doesn’t say anything as he locks back up. The magical zing makes my ears twitch uncomfortably. 

 

“Dan, take Zilant and the boys and wait for me outside,” I nod, but the dogs flop down on the ground near PJ’s feet; now that the floor beneath them is a pale yellow tile, I can discern their outline more clearly: though they have three separate heads, everything else is shared - paws, body, tail, and wings. PJ’s been addressing them as though Zilant is in control, so I decide to do the same.

 

“Zilant, you heard him, let’s go,” I wave at them, and they stand with a shake and trot toward me. Once I’m confident they’ll follow, I make my way back to the front of the store. We wait outside the entrance, and I’m mildly alarmed to once again have the attention of the almost-twins manning the clothing stalls.

 

“Best be careful, dearie,” one says, to my left. “Wouldn’t want to have another panic attack,” the other intones, and I suck in a breath.  _ How would they... _ Zilant’s voice pops into my head unbidden.

  
_ You are projecting. _ I ask inside my head for further explanation, but I’m given none, and the two women have turned from me by the time PJ pushes the shop door open.


	3. A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party time

We pop back through a portal into PJ’s room, and I sit for a moment on his bed to calm my stomach - the nausea’s not as bad as the first time, now that I know what to expect. Meanwhile, Zilant and the dogs are sniffing around the room, and PJ insists that they stay there until Phil’s actual birthday. A small whine sounds from Fireball, then a trail of smoke trickles from his nose.

 

“Besides,” PJ squats down to pet the small head of Zilant, “someone has to take you outside, and I think it best that it isn’t Dan,” I twist my lips in annoyance, but he has a point.  _ I don’t know if I can handle going out there, no matter how much I wish people would stop acting like I’m so breakable. _

 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I nod reluctantly, and PJ stands.

 

“Now, if I’m not incorrect, I believe you’ve got work today,” I whip out my phone, and the action happens to coincide with a rumble in my now-settled stomach. “Go eat, or Louise might kill us both.” I’m a little surprised by PJ’s chuckle, but I pat the dogs’ heads and spin toward the door.

 

“I’ll see you all later!” I say just before the door closes, then head off to the kitchen.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

The next day and a half passes without incident, though there have been a few close calls - one involving some extreme PDA to keep Phil distracted as PJ snuck Zilant and the boys out of the diner.  _ Not that I’d ever complain about that, though the people watching us make out was a little strange. _

 

As with every mildly interesting holiday or gathering as of late, there will be a party this evening for Phil’s birthday. PJ’s already told me he’ll be coming in after it’s started, with Zilant and the pups, and I’m to keep Phil from worrying about his whereabouts for the first half hour or so. 

 

“He’ll be fine as long as you distract him, trust me,” I nod, though I’m a little concerned.  _ Couldn’t Phil just...scan or something? In fact, how has he not sensed Zilant and the boys already? _

 

“Don’t worry, he can’t. I’ve been keeping the dogs close enough that my energy mostly masks theirs. Plus, you’re still projecting,” I grimace at that, “which is a fantastic distraction. Even when Phil’s not reading your thoughts, it must sound like white noise in his head most of the time.”

 

I ponder this as I’m getting dressed.  _ Am I annoying him?  _ I hate the sound of white noise, and I can’t imagine how irritating it must be to have that sound in your head  _ all the time _ you’re around someone…

 

“Hey, Phil?” I decide to ask it aloud, once we’re in his room - though I’m not sure how to approach it. “Are you...am I...uh,” I pause after a moment. “Am I... _ projecting _ ?” I ask, tilting my head and fiddling with the hem of my suit jacket. I’ve been ready to go for the past five minutes.

 

“Sure,” he nods at me in the mirror, still fixing his hair in the bathroom.  _ Does that not bother him, though? _ “No, silly, it doesn’t bother me. I can block most of it out, and I know it’s just anxiety causing it-” he stops suddenly, dropping his gaze so it’s no longer meeting mine in the reflection.

 

“The anxiety, it’s cause of the aether thing, isn’t it,” I say quietly, more of a statement than a question, and stare at the carpet; I’m sure he’s still inside my head, but he acts as if he hasn’t heard me.

 

“Are you almost ready?” He asks by way of diversion, and I glance up to him and sigh.  _ We  _ will  _ talk about this later, _ I push the thought into my head clearly, hoping he’s not blocking that out. 

 

“Yeah, birthday boy, let’s go,” I respond aloud, then force a smile to my face; he looks so damn  _ good,  _ though, that I don’t have to fake it for more than a second. When he holds his arm out to me, I slip mine through, and we’re standing in the grand ballroom only a few minutes later - it’s been decked out with vibrant colors that contrast sharply with the luxurious, ornate tones of the space, but it suits Phil’s bright personality perfectly.

 

“Shall we?” I offer, and we migrate to the open center of the room - it’s not changed since the Christmas-ish party, and I wonder if he’ll pull us both into the air again. It’s not until I have this thought that I look up: the space above us is full of floating decorations - balloons and streamers and colorful orbs that send bright sparks down over the party guests. 

 

As we sway on the dance floor - both of us still firmly earthbound - I do my best to keep my attention on Phil; he needs to be fully occupied until PJ arrives with Zilant, and I don’t want him to get suspicious.

 

However, the deep green vines crawling along the edges of the ballroom continue to draw my attention - they fit the color scheme surprisingly well, given that they’re natural and the rest of the decorations are artificial or magical. As we sway and spin, buds pop along the vines and reveal brightly-colored blooms, and I smile into Phil’s shoulder; he and Wendell have clearly outdone themselves.

 

Time seems to flow past us in a blur, and before I know it, PJ is bursting from the stairwell with a  _ very _ eager puppy in tow. Well, technically  _ three _ , but they bound up to me and Phil on one set of paws, and Phil looks utterly shocked.  _ Shocked _ , I realize, not excited.

 

_ Oh my god, PJ, what if he doesn’t want them? _ I hope I’m projecting more to PJ than to Zilant and Phil, but one look from PJ assures me of something I can’t yet see. Which is precisely when Phil bends down to the puppies, and they jump up into his arms in a blur of black.

 

Phil actually falls back onto the floor laughing, with the dogs panting and slobbering all over his face and chest, and I suddenly feel incredibly light.

 

“Happy birthday, bud, from Dan and I,” PJ’s still halfway across the room, nowhere near as enthusiastic as the puppies, but Phil manages to sit up and nod at him. Then his gaze turns to me.

 

“Thank you,” his eyes flare red, and I hear him in my head for only a moment,  _ this is the best gift I could ask for _ . “Thanks to both of you,” Phil turns away, back to PJ, who only inclines his head slightly. Chris finds him, then, and drags him away to the appetizer table. Phil’s attention returns to the dogs, now wiggling in his arms, and I squat down beside him to give Mack’s ears a scratch.

 

“I’m sure Zilant’s already told you,” I nod at the head on the right, “but this is Fireball and Mack,” I point at the two in turn, whose ears perk up at their names. Fireball barks excitedly, a short burst of flame singeing Phil’s tie. “Oh, he, uh...can do that,” I reach up to pat at the ashen spot, which has probably cooled, but Phil’s hand catches mine before I even get close.

 

“No need,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.  _ He can’t be serious, can he? _ I pull my hand back, offering an equally fake smile.  _ Birthday or not, I don’t need him babying me about a tiny little singe, my hand won’t fall off or anything. _ I stand, then, trying not to feel Zilant’s brown eyes boring into me.  _ Quit that, you. Go play with your brothers. _ At first, I’m not sure he’s heard, and I wonder if I look silly talking to the dog from within my mind, but each of the heads gives Phil’s cheek a quick lick before scampering off to the edge of the party, near the appetizer table. When I notice Chris bend down with something in his hand, and PJ smack him on the arm, I can’t help but laugh: these dogs are going to be spoiled. Phil stands beside me, and I only jump a  _ little _ . 

 

“Truly, Dan, thank you,” his lips find mine in a smooth movement, and I reach my arms up around his neck to pull him closer.

 

“You like them?” I draw back, leaning our foreheads together, and I realize I sound silly just searching his eyes for some form of praise; he gives it to me anyway.

 

“They’re amazing, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” I smile, but it falters at his next words. “I can’t wait to spend more time with the little guys,” his eyes have drifted off behind me, despite his hands at my waist, and I wonder what this could mean for us. _ What if he’s bored of me, now that he’s got something new to play with? _ All my insecurities from a few months ago come rushing back full force.

 

“You’ll help me take care of them, won’t you?” Phil’s eyes are back on mine, and I worry he’s reading my mind again. But there’s not a trace of red, and my slight frown slowly turns back into a grin as he rambles. “I mean, you don’t have to, I understand having a pet is a  _ huge _ responsibility, and I can certainly take care of them myself, but I would hope you want to raise them with me, and…” he trails off, and I can see the physical strain he’s experiencing just trying  _ not _ to read my mind.

 

“Phil,” I start, but I can’t mask the amusement - or excitement - in my voice.  _ He wants me to help him take care of these puppies, actually  _ with _ him? _ “Of course I’ll help you, I’d love to,” my grin spreads even wider in the moment before his lips meet mine, a kiss full of his own gratitude and eagerness, and we begin swaying to the music again after a few moments.

 

Until Zilant and the boys land clumsily on Phil’s shoulder, wings flapping a few times before they fold back, and Mack laps at his face. We both chuckle at the unexpected intrusion, then I pull the pups between us and hold them as we continue to dance.


	4. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's struggling with Phil's over-protectiveness

The rest of the evening passes that way - full of laughter, dancing, and some very rambunctious puppies - and Phil creates a special alcove in his room for Zilant and his brothers to sleep in. Over the next few days, I end up spending more time with Phil in his office, entertaining the dogs, than I do working.

 

I’m  _ furious _ to find out why.

 

“PJ,” I approach him cautiously, sure he’s already aware of what’s on my mind. “Why…” He holds up a hand, rushes off to escort a family of demons to their seats in the diner, then returns to me. And places a hand on my shoulder to guide me into the hallway in the back.

 

“Please don’t be upset, but…” Naturally, I mentally prepare myself to be  _ very  _ upset. PJ sighs. “Phil asked me to take you off shifts, alright?” I blink, twice, before he continues. “Look, we’re passing through a particularly... _ unsafe _ area, and he doesn’t want anyone to come in and possibly harm you.” I clench my jaw.  _ I will literally never live that stupid attack down. _ Instead of waiting for further explanation, I stomp off in the direction of the office.

 

“Phil!” I shout, bursting through the door without pretense. “How  _ dare _ you!” I’m fuming, now, even Zilant and the boys have retreated into a corner at my anger. “ _ I am not going to break _ ,” I can’t help it, but it’s been nearly two months and he’s still treating me like some fragile little human. 

 

“Dan, please don’t shout,” he looks...genuinely upset, and I take a breath.  _ Remember, he was afraid to lose you, this isn’t just about you. _ I grimace at the thought, then try -  _ really,  _ I try - to calm down a little.

 

“Phil, you can’t trap me in some tiny bubble forever,” I plop down on the chair that’s appeared, exasperated and sort of drained of all the pure rage I felt only a minute ago. “I mean, I can’t even go out in the  _ diner _ now, because it’s not safe enough?” I drop my head into my hands, thoroughly exhausted.

 

“We serve all kinds, Dan, and I don’t want  _ anything _ to happen to you…” he trails off, and I can tell without looking that he’s remembering the incident with the aether. “It would be irresponsible of me to have you work right now. I’ve told Chris as much, but he’ll still be taking some shifts. PJ insists he can handle himself with this crowd, and I trust him.” I latch onto these words, storing them in the back of my mind carefully.  _ If I can get PJ to sign off on it… _

 

“No,” Phil waves a hand as I look up, and I frown as the flash of red in his eyes fades. “I’ve got the final say, and I’m not risking it. Not until you’ve been here a while longer…” he trails off again, but his expression becomes one of doubt more than fear at my safety. I almost don’t catch his next words. “ _ If you choose to stay. _ ”

 

They absolutely floor me, but Phil doesn’t add anything else to my stunned silence; by the time I manage to do so much as  _ blink _ , he’s already focused on his laptop again.  _ What does he mean, ‘if’? Of course I’d stay... _ but even in my own head, there’s the slightest trace of doubt.  _ Wouldn’t I? _

 

\-----------------------------------

 

I can’t think straight the next few days, all thoughts occupied with the idea of going back to the city. I could, easily, once we arrive - it’d be back to a life on the streets, sure, but I have  _ some _ marketable skills now. Well, as marketable as being a waiter can possibly be, but it’s a good deal more - and more  _ legal _ \- than I had before.

 

But how could I leave everyone here? This has become something of a home to me, bizarre as it is.  _ But out there, I’d be completely free.  _ The thought shakes me to my core, enough that I actually feel the need to seek out some advice.

 

“Chris?” I speak into the phone, hearing a muffled whump before I get a response.

 

“ _ Hey man, what’s up? _ ” I smile - I haven’t seen much of Chris since he and PJ returned from their honeymoon, and I’m actually looking forward to catching up. If he’s free.

 

“Hey, want to grab some lunch? Phil’s got me benched from work for now, and I’m going crazy with nothing to do,” I realize that might sound like he’s my last option for entertainment, but he doesn’t seem to take it that way.

 

“ _ Yeah! Been ages, mate. Meet in the kitchen in...three minutes, _ ” I don’t get to say anything before I hear the telltale click that he’s hung up, so I just smile and stand. Then frown.  _ I’m not sure I’m really looking forward to this conversation. _

 

\-----------------------------

 

It takes until we’re halfway through the late lunch that Louise made us before I muster up the courage to ask. Or, rather, until Chris literally pulls my question out of me.

 

“Spit it out, Howell,” I almost  _ do _ spit it out - my food, anyway - at his confrontational manner. When I manage to finish chewing my bite and swallow it, he’s staring at me with a cocked eyebrow.

 

“I, uh...why did you stay?” I realize we already had this discussion, so I amend, “I mean, I know you stayed for PJ, but why didn’t you  _ ever _ leave? Or...maybe ask him to come with you?” The thought hadn’t even occurred until just now, the way my thoughts have been focused on myself, on how I can  _ escape _ from the overprotectiveness.  _ But if we’re in my world, he’ll have to trust that I can handle myself - no demons, aside from the ones from my past. _

 

Chris sets his burger down slowly, fixing me with an unusually measured gaze. He remains silent longer than I think I’ve ever seen him do, and it’s unnerving.

 

“There’s a reason I was so drunk when I stumbled in here,” he finally says, eyes drifting to the corner of the table. I expect him to stop there, but he doesn’t. “I lost a lot of people, very close to me, all at once. I had nothing to go back to, and then I found Peej.” His eyes meet mine again, more confident than sad. “I couldn’t ask him to do that, to leave,” he nods, reaching back for his burger, but…

 

“Why, though? What happens if he leaves?” I shake my head, still not understanding.  _ Would he die or something? No, that wouldn’t make sense...but what? _

 

“He’s been alive almost three times longer than I have. Time...it doesn’t operate the same way here. I mean, it does, in a sense, but...it’s hard to explain,” he huffs a sigh and thinks for a moment, takes a bite and chews, then swallows before continuing. “Here, time passes, but we’ll never age,” he gestures absently at me with his burger, “We’ll never  _ die _ , not unless we’re killed. I couldn’t ask Peej to come to a place where he’ll live forever, but I’ll age and eventually die like any other human. It’s not fair to him.” He tilts his head at me, then takes another bite. “Besides, this is basically my home now, anyway,” he says around a mouthful; I nod calmly, though my thoughts are racing.

 

“I, uh...I think I need to go...just think for a bit,” I abandon my sandwich in a rush, not even realizing I’ve just left it at the table until I’m locked into my own room and sat cross-legged on my bed. 

  
Could I ever ask that of Phil? To leave his life, his  _ family  _ behind to live in an unfamiliar world? To have to watch me age and eventually die, while he stays the same? To  _ choose _ to have eighty years with me at best, then be alone? Here, we could just...stay, forever. 


	5. A Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little trust can go a long way...right?

I spend the rest of the day in my room, alternating between naps and staring at my phone - early on, I had tried to convince Phil to create some games, but he was hopeless when it came to human technology. Eventually, I just gave up.

 

Nobody had come to check on me since I ran out on Chris, and I hope it’ll stay that way a little longer; I’m still not sure I can deal with human - or demon - interaction right now. My mind keeps turning over every scenario in my head, running through every branching possibility for how this return to the city could play out.  _ It would be in, what, less than two months now?  _ I do some mental math.  _ No, in a month _ .

 

What then? And how long will I have to decide, once we arrive? A week, a month? Less time? More? If I’m still projecting, I’ve no doubt that PJ can’t even stand to be  _ near _ my room with all the psychic noise I must be making.

 

The next time I bring my phone up to my face, I realize the time - it’s well past midnight, and nobody’s sought me out yet.  _ Maybe Phil’s giving me a little leeway, a little space, after the way I blew up at him earlier _ . I think, if we could come to some sort of agreement on how he’s been treating me, I could stay. I’d  _ want _ to stay.  _ But what if he won’t let up? _

 

I stand, shifting for a moment on my feet before I take semi-confident steps out the door and down the hallway. Phil’s not in his room -  _ our room? _ \- so I move down the corridor toward the diner, then turn toward his office. The light is on under the door, so I open it a crack.

 

“Phil?” I call into the room, the bright light making me blink a few times. “Can I come in?” I’m not sure why I’m asking, given how casual we usually are around each other. I suppose it feels like I fractured something, before, and I need to treat it delicately until we can heal it.

 

“Of course, Dan,” his voice is quiet, but he doesn’t sound upset. Well, not upset with  _ me _ , anyway. It only takes one look at his face to realize how stressed he is.

 

“Are you...okay?” It seems like such a silly question, but he stands and wraps me in a hug before I get an answer.

 

“Of course, of course I am. I’m so sorry about earlier. I spoke with PJ, he’s right -  _ you’re _ right, I can’t... _ I’m so terrified of losing you, and look what I’ve been doing to you _ ,” his breath tickles my ear, and I pull away for a moment, until his eyes meet mine.  _ Still blue, he’s not in my head _ . But somehow he knew exactly what I needed to hear.

 

“It’s...it’s okay, it’s alright, I just...you’ve been bloody  _ suffocating _ me,” I try for a small chuckle at the end, but it comes out more as a sigh. Which mutates into a groan when his arms pull me back in, squeezing tightly.

 

“No,  _ this _ is suffocating you,” he giggles, and I’d gladly take this suffocation for all of eternity to feel the gentle rumble in his chest against me as he speaks. “But he was right,  _ you’re _ right, I’ve been far too...overprotective. If I get like that again, please...please just  _ tell _ me.” He steps back, and I can feel an embarrassed blush creep up my cheeks. His hand cups my face, and his thumb follows the rush of blood before he leans in to press a soft kiss to my lips.

 

“It kills me that you feel you couldn’t talk to me about it,” he says when we finally pull apart, and my heart breaks a little. 

 

“I will, if it happens again,” I promise, a bit breathless now. The look in his eyes has changed, no longer the pain and concern but a playful lust, and I’m just leaning back in when a tiny yip sounds from the corner of the room.

 

Phil laughs when I startle, pulling away.

 

“How about this,” he offers, and intrigue replaces my disappointment. “You take Zilant and the boys out while I finish up one last thing here, then we can go to bed?” I don’t miss the return of that seductive glint in his eye, so I nod quickly and beckon to the dogs.  _ This is an immense level of trust, having me go out...in the...aether… _

 

I hope my sudden fear doesn’t show on my face, that Phil isn’t in my head, but my steps stutter as we head for the door. I wince when he asks us to wait.  _ Please just let me go, let me prove I can do this.  _ For myself as much as him.

 

“Zilant, will you tell Mack to take on his form once you’re outside, please?” The head nods, then they’re romping out the half-open door ahead of me, and my curiosity gets the best of me.  _ They have multiple forms? _ I shoot a glance over my shoulder, but Phil’s already focused on his work, so I follow after the dogs. They’re anxiously pawing at the front door by the time I get there, and I only hesitate for a moment before pushing it open.

 

Once outside, I scan my surroundings carefully, keeping my back pressed against the diner windows. I can make out the shape of the terrifying forest, in almost the same place it was before. I don’t consider what the emptiness to my right might be. In moments, though, I’m fully distracted by the  _ giant-ass dogs  _ now standing in front of me. 

 

They’re the size of a shed, all three heads much larger and giving off a more adult-dog vibe. Their fur has changed color to a sandy brown, wings included - wings which are no longer membranous, but feathered and soft.

 

“Oh,” I manage to mumble, and the one I assume to be Mack tilts his head at me. There aren’t any voices in my mind, and I realize Mack must be in control; still, I’m wishing for some kind of familiarity here. “Uh, hello there,” I try again, and Mack dips down to me, so I reach a tentative hand up to scratch behind his ear. His tongue lolls out, exactly like it normally does, and I smile.  _ Okay, so Phil’s got me protected by a giant watchdog, but I’ll take it if it means I can get out of that safety bubble for a few minutes. _

 

“Go on,” I gesture nonspecifically at the space around us, leaning back against the windows of the diner again. The dogs romp off, and I’m a little speechless when they take off and soar above the ground on their incredibly powerful wings. I stare at the spot where they disappeared for a few moments before my gaze is drawn to my old enemy.

 

The forest is...well, I can see it a little more clearly, now; it’s no longer a blur of black and fog, but it’s no less foreboding and ominous. Despite that, I’m drawn toward it.  _ Maybe if I can see it more clearly, it won’t be as frightening _ . I’m not sure where the idea comes from, or why I don’t immediately dismiss it, but I push off the window behind me and take a few tentative steps forward.

 

My heart rate is already speeding up, but I can swear the outlines of each tree become more visible and well-defined the closer I get. Every third step, I pause and turn back toward the diner: there’s no fog closing in around me, and I can still very clearly make out the entrance. I can see the exact handle I’ll need to pull to get back inside.

 

I stop, and my breath catches in my throat; the shadows have begun swirling, and I can see just the faintest layer of fog at my feet - despite this, I don’t rush back to the diner. I do, however, ensure it’s still behind me. The light is a beacon, renewing my confidence. While I can’t imagine moving into the forest itself, I do manage to extend a tentative hand toward the black trunk of the tree nearest me.  _ I can do this, I can face this fear. _

 

I jump back with a yelp when an orange flame hits the exact spot my hand was about to touch, and I spin to see Fireball poised just behind me. Well, he and Mack and Zilant, but the mouth of his head in the middle that’s smoking; my eyes flick between the dogs and the spot on the tree. Which seems alarmingly unharmed by the flames.

 

I take stumbling steps back toward the giant dogs, and Mack nuzzles me as I pass. We head quickly back to the diner, my breath coming in gasps as we pass through the door. Once inside the well-lit space, I blink a few times to clear the bright spots from my vision. The dogs return to Zilant’s small form, but he and his brothers prevent me from moving any farther into the diner.

 

_ You should not go back out there. _ I nod in agreement, unsure why I even went so close to the forest to begin with; something about the safe, fluorescent light of the diner is illuminating just how stupid I’d been - anything could’ve reached out and grabbed me, and I’d just gone and  _ taunted _ everything out there.  _ Beware the trees _ , Zilant intones, and I nod again, though he’s already turned and heading back toward Phil’s office.

 

“Wait!” I shout, though I wonder if I even need to. I’m probably  _ projecting _ again. 

 

_ I will not tell Phil, but please be cautious. _ They don’t look at me, but I can feel the concern in Zilant’s voice. 

 

“Thank you.” I respond quietly.  _ I don’t need yet another example of why he has to protect me, not when we’re making some kind of progress. _

 

The light at the end of the corridor is off, so I redirect the dogs to the living quarters, and we enter Phil’s room as quietly as I can manage. Phil’s already in bed, breathing deeply, and the corner of my cheek tugs up.  _ As long as I don’t go outside much, I think this could be good. We could be good. _ I strip quickly, then join him in bed, smiling as he turns to curl around me in his sleep.


	6. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~All's well in Dan & Phil world.

I’m again woken with the smell of cedar in my nose, though it’s quickly replaced by the tantalizingly sweet scent of American pancakes.  _ I haven’t had pancakes in... _ well, it’s been a while. I try to blink the sleep out of my eyes, grinning when I see Phil sat on the edge of the bed with a huge platter of food between us.

 

“I’m taking the day off, no work at all,” he smiles at me, though he looks a little nervous. “I thought you might like...well, Louise said these were something you might enjoy, though I’ve never had them before,” he nods at the pancakes, and a small, hoarse laugh escapes me.

 

“Yeah,” I clear my throat, my voice still sleep-congested, before continuing. “Yeah, pancakes are great.” My eyes go wide when his other words hit me. “The  _ whole  _ day?” I gape at him, and more of the delicious scent of breakfast seeps in and makes my mouth water.  _ He’s always got  _ something _ to do, this is unusual _ . I wonder for a moment if PJ gave him the idea, after their heart-to-heart yesterday.

 

“The whole day, we’ll just hang out together, do whatever you want,” he’s smiling, but it falters slightly. “I mean, only if you want. I don’t want to... _ hover _ too much…” he trails off, but I can only laugh. 

 

“No, I’m just surprised. You’ve always got something going on, but I’d love to spend the day with you. What’d you have in mind?” I prompt, hoping for that bright smile again; my heart lightens when it returns.

 

“Well, aside from breakfast in bed, I thought I might show you the waterfall room,” I blink, waiting for him to explain. “It’s similar to what you humans-” I wince at the word, and he frowns slightly. “Sorry, similar to what I think you call a garden, but...maybe a little more ambitious, according to PJ,” he holds a very neutral expression, waiting for my reaction, but I can only quirk a brow.

 

“Well, it sounds lovely, I can’t wait,” I offer, then giggle and drop a hand to my stomach when it growls. “I think that sound rivals Mack’s.” We both erupt in laughter when a pitiful whine sounds from the dogs, most likely from Mack, and then Phil turns the tray so we’ve both got a stack of pancakes in front of us.

 

The rest of the morning is so  _ domestic _ , with us both stuffing our faces and the dogs running around all over the bed and flapping around our heads; I wipe a spot of syrup from Phil’s chin only to have him take some from his pancakes and smear it on my cheek, then Fireball’s warm tongue licks it off as Mack stretches his neck toward the half-eaten food on my plate.  _ This is a bubble I could live inside _ .

 

“Alright, now we’re both sticky messes. Go on, you can shower first,” he gestures. “I’ll get this cleaned up,” I smile, then make my way to the bathroom. The wafting of the door closing sends a strong burst of cedar into my nose, so I turn on the shower before sniffing at a few of Phil’s toiletries experimentally.  _ How is it that none of these smell like cedar? _

 

I step in the shower, hoping the running water will provide some clarity.  _ He can make music in any room, he can surely do the same with scents. Or perhaps he’s got some furniture made of cedar, that would make sense as well. _ I let the water rinse away those thoughts, but my curiosity returns the moment I swing the door open.

 

I don’t say a word as he passes me, mostly because I really  _ can’t _ ; his hands find the top edge of my towel and trace lines across my hips and stomach, and he leans in close to press a kiss to my lips. At the last moment, though, he changes direction and sucks at a spot on my neck.

 

_ What on earth has gotten into him? _ I’m still fighting to get my breathing under control when he pulls away and smirks at me before disappearing into the steamy bathroom.  _ Fucking hell _ . I’m tempted to follow him in, desperate for more, when I hear a soft laugh from behind the door.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” his voice is muffled by the running water, but I can hear clearly enough to pout. “Later,” it’s softer this time, but I can feel the blood rushing...well, certainly not to my cheeks. Which only has me itching to pull the door open again, but I hear a lock click shut just as my hand reaches the doorknob.

 

“ _ Later _ ,” Phil calls again, more forcefully - but it’s still a fond tone, and I can’t fight the smile despite my grumbling. Instead, I dress, hoping to fight back any thoughts he’d gotten running through my head. I wonder how much Zilant can hear, or understand, when the pups jump up on the bed I’ve just sat down on; they provide plenty of distraction until Phil emerges.

 

\------------------------

 

“Alright, what’s this waterfall room, then?” I ask impatiently. It may or may not be the twelfth time I’ve asked. 

 

“It’s the fourteenth, actually, and as I said all thirteen times before,  _ you’ll see when we get there _ .” Phil’s adamant about not spoiling it for me, but the best mental image I can conjure is a fancy garden. Which is, admittedly,  _ nice _ , but I’m sort of expecting something  _ more _ .  _ I mean, this place is magical after all, right? _

 

“Ugh, but when will we get there?” I whine, seeing as we’ve already trekked up the  _ entire _ stairwell and have been meandering down the corridor for what feels like hours.

 

“It’s been less than ten minutes, babe, calm down,” Phil chuckles, and I blush at the pet name. Usually, we reserve that kind of thing for behind closed doors. Which means - with how busy Phil tends to get - I don’t hear it often.  _ Not that there’s really anyone in the hall. _ This floor looks completely abandoned, and there don’t seem to be many rooms here - the wall is bare of doors.

 

It takes another few minutes for me to realize the hall isn’t as straight as I originally thought - it actually curves, just slightly, and I wonder if we aren’t walking around something.  _ The waterfall room, perhaps? _

 

I get my answer when Phil stops us in front of a very average-looking door - I almost whine at the loss of his arm around my waist, I’d gotten so used to it during our  _ agonizingly long  _ journey up here. Phil holds a hand on the doorknob for a moment, and I hear the odd zing of a magical barrier.

 

“Yes, it helps protect everything inside. PJ mentioned you’d seen habitats at the pet shop?” I nod, though he obviously already knows the answer. “Well…” he trails off, pushing open the door slowly and, in my opinion, rather dramatically.


	7. A Bribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The waterfall room. And some angst.

My opinion changes immediately as I step inside: it’s more than worth all the drama and mystery Phil had surrounded it with on our way up. It’s hardly a room, more of a giant domed greenhouse, and I nearly have to break my neck just to see where the mountain-like structure in the center ends far above us.

 

Phil stays silent, letting me take it in: around us in every direction are thousands of plants, some bright and jungle-dwelling, others dark and reminiscent of a secluded wood. While the ground hosts innumerable varieties of brightly-colored foliage, the rock structure ahead of us is far more engaging. 

 

“The waterfall room, huh,” I stare open-mouthed at the cascades of water flowing from the mountain, splashing into pools at its base and generating a cool mist that settles across the ground and reaches all the way out to our feet. Where the water isn’t, clinging ivy crawls up to fill in the empty space. Toward the top of the mountain, more mist gathers, almost obscuring the peak.

 

“Shall we take a walk?” Phil offers his arm, and I latch onto it absentmindedly. I’m still struggling to absorb all the incredibly unique plants, the tumbling beauty of the waterfalls, so it’s all I can do to keep pace with Phil. And he’s walking very slowly.

 

Though all the bright plants are intriguing, I find myself drawn to the cool, dark colors of the ivy, the tall pines, and the deep pools in which the larger waterfalls end.  _ I’ve always been drawn to the dark colors, haven’t I? _ It’s a silly thought, and my small laugh is the first noise I think I’ve made since we started walking.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Phil asks, and I glance over to realize he’s staring at me.  _ How could he not be enraptured by all this? _ I nod once when his eyes flash red, asking for permission to peek into my thoughts. “So you like it, then?” I nod again, and his smile is brighter than every flower in the entire place put together.

 

“It’s amazing,” I feel the need to voice the opinion, though he’s probably still listening. I let my eyes wander again, snagging on the deepest colors and the towering waterfalls. 

 

“Good, consider it yours,” I blink a few times, turning back to him. He must still be in my head, or my confusion’s written pretty clearly on my face, because he gives me a small smile. “The door is coded to you, you can come here any time you’d like. You and I are the only ones with unrestricted access.” My face hurts from the grin that erupts there, and I wrap my arms around his neck in a clumsy hug.

 

“Thank you, this is...wow…”  _ I can come here whenever I want. _ I breathe a sigh of relief for an anxiety I didn’t realize I had - it felt like I had to take in every inch of this place before we left, and I can’t imagine  _ anyone _ would be able to do that.  _ But I have as long as I want. _ I press a kiss to Phil’s cheek, then pull away.  _ I have forever _ .

 

That’s when it hits me, when everything hits me, like a fucking  _ freight train _ . 

 

“ _ Are you bribing me? _ ” I step back, voice low and suspicious... _ what if he’s exactly like every other mob boss I’ve ever dealt with, just a little more saccharine-sweet about it? _ The disgust that rolls through my stomach is almost debilitating.

 

“Am I  _ what _ ?” Phil looks genuinely confused, and concerned, but something about the whole day, about this ‘gift’, just feels... _ off _ .

 

“Are you  _ bribing _ me, to get me to stay here? With you?” I ask, seriously concerned.  _ What if all this is just some elaborate ruse to keep his pet human here with him? _ I take another step back, heel smacking against the rocks lining one of the plant beds. Every doubt I’ve ever had resurfaces at full force as I wait for him to answer; I  _ know _ I’m being irrational, but I can’t help it.

 

“I thought, maybe if you had more reasons to stay…” Phil starts, but it’s more than enough for me. I turn and sprint toward the door, ignoring his voice behind me.  _ I’m just a fucking human pet to him, something for him to play with. Soon he’ll be bored of me and move on, or maybe he really does have some kind of...human fetish. _ I slide to a stop a few feet from the door, gravel crunching under my feet; Phil’s already beaten me to the entrance. His wings dematerialize as he fixes a sad look on me.

 

“I just want you to be happy here, but...how could you think you’re just...a  _ pet _ ?” Somehow  _ he  _ has the audacity to look hurt, and it fuels the rage in the pit of my stomach that’s currently fighting against my rising tears.

 

I shove past him, or I attempt to, but his arms catch me, and  _ apparently _ that’s all it takes for me to break completely. He doesn’t let me go, just holds me against him, though I’ve started pounding at his chest. Ugly sobs escape my throat, and all I can think is  _ I thought I was over this, I thought I was past this. _ But my heart betrays me, and I collapse against Phil in a frustrated exhaustion.

 

“Can we talk, please?” Phil’s voice is soft in my ear, but I don’t think I can respond, so I just nod into his shoulder. I half expect him to pick me up, carry me somewhere, but instead he gently lowers us both to the pathway. I end up curled in his lap, ear resting against his chest. Though I’ve calmed down outwardly, I can still feel my brain spiraling into a hole of self-doubt. I’m staring blankly at a swath of dark ivy on the wall across from us, suddenly wishing it would just envelop me and take me away from all this.

 

“Can we play that game?” Phil starts, and I pause before nodding.  _ Whatever he has to say, it’d better be good. _ I’m trying to hold onto some semblance of anger, or even sadness, but I only feel drained, like every drop of emotion’s been fully wrung out of me and I’m just empty.

 

“I used to  _ hate _ humans,” he says this quietly, but the words swim in my ears and I tense in his lap. “I can’t even remember why, what made me hate them at first,” I glance up to find him staring at one of the waterfalls. “But it became... _ I _ became something awful because of it.” I watch his face from the odd angle of his shoulder: it’s scrunching in disappointment, in regret. “Before I owned this diner, before I...before I met any of the wonderful people here. Before I met  _ you _ ,” I’m tense, still, but now in anticipation. Whatever he’s about to say to me, it’s a heavy admission, and he’s clearly unsure if he can even say it.  _ What if I can’t handle it? _ The thought drifts to me through a numb fog, sparking for a moment before dying out.  _ He doesn’t know what I’ve been through, he thinks I can’t handle whatever bomb he’s about to drop on me, but I can. _

 

“I  _ tortured  _ humans. The ones who deserved it, but I did all the same.” His voice is quiet, but the words send an entire blaze of fire through me.

 

I jump from his lap as if struck by lightning, staring at him warily.  _ He’s exactly like those mob bosses, he tortured humans like me, humans who  _ deserved _ it. _ Though I have no reason - and every rational bone in my body is screaming at me that Phil has given me  _ no reason _ \- I’m suddenly terrified. Every nightmare comes crashing back in - no, every  _ memory _ \- and I find myself racing around Phil and toward the door.  _ Maybe if I run fast enough… _

 

He doesn’t move, aside from his head following my path to the door, so I just keep going. I burst into the stairwell, then hurtle down the stairs. The mural is a passing comfort, and I run a hand along the line of trees as I make my way to the ground floor and practically launch myself into the hall. 

 

I slam into the wall across from me, trying to catch my breath, but the narrow corridor is suffocating; I pass both my room and Phil’s without so much as a pause, then rush through the diner. It’s only once I’m outside with the blackness of the aether surrounding me that I realize where I am. But I surely have only a minute until Phil finds me, so I rush around to the side of the building.

 

Once I’ve gone far enough that the windows have been replaced by concrete, I collapse against the wall, breaths coming in heavy gasps. Any fire, any anger, any  _ fear _ I felt toward Phil has evaporated - in its place is just...nothing.  _ He hated humans, why am I any different? Who’s to say he won’t remember exactly what made him hate us in the first place, and take it out on me? _ I let the doubts and dread swirl inside my head for a while.

 

I’m surprised that so much time has passed - though, really, I’m not  _ exactly  _ sure how much - but Phil’s not found me yet, nor has PJ, or Chris, or anyone else. The cool fog from the forest has made its way to me, and it’s soothing. I don’t move for a long time after that, staring into the depths of the trees instead of digging out and confronting the horrible things I’ve already bottled up and stored away.

 

_ Emptiness is easier _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't make the rules, soz friends that this is such a not-happy chapter on a holiday! Happiest holidays to all who celebrate something this time of year <3


	8. Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's having a tough time

I find my way back after some time - it’s not hard, given the fact that I never actually left the diner. Everyone’s gathered in the kitchen, and I overhear a brief snippet about searching for me before I turn the other direction. By the time I make it to my room, I’m just exhausted. I collapse into my bed without a second thought, glad for the all-encompassing silence of sleep.  _ Even my nightmares would be better than this… _

 

\----------------------------

 

I sleep fitfully: Phil’s replaced my torturers in every nightmare. I wake without feeling rested, and have no inclination to move. I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, evidently someone trying to get ahold of me, but I pull it out and toss it across the floor; it lands with a soft thud on the carpet.

 

_ What if Phil never even loved me to begin with? Of course he didn’t, it was just a ruse to get a human toy he could play with. Someone he could torture again, the moment I messed up. The moment he remembered what made him hate us.  _ I sigh and roll over, but sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I stare numbly at the wall, every fear and self-doubt playing over and over on an endless loop. The worst part is that, for all the inventive acts of torture my brain comes up with, for all the horrible, cutting words I imagine Phil saying, I don’t even  _ feel _ anything. Just...empty. Like nothing even  _ matters _ .

 

I don’t move when my door flies open and PJ rushes inside. Apparently, my door has seen fit to allow him to enter. I groan when I realize that  _ someone else _ already has permission. I’ll have to remember to revoke that. Eventually.

 

“ _ Dan _ , holy shit, are you alright? We thought…” PJ stares at me, and I wonder how pitiful I must look from his view. A pesky little human, causing all kinds of stress for the demons, and I’m just laying in bed staring at a wall.

 

I don’t have to look at him to know the moment his eyes go black and he dives into my head. I don’t even care enough try to stop him from connecting the events, from Phil’s admission to my freak-out, then to my past experiences. The past torture.  _ It doesn’t matter, anyway. None of it does. _

 

“Dan…” his voice has that pitying tone, and I’d scream at him if I could be bothered. 

 

“Just...leave.” I say it to the wall, but I know he hears me. I’m probably still  _ projecting _ . I sneer at the beige-white surface. My eyes close the moment PJ shuts the door, then I’m arguing with myself in my head until I finally manage to muster up the energy to stand and revoke Phil’s access. My door had better get the memo.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

It must, or PJ’s passed along my message - or lack thereof - because I’m left alone for the entire rest of the day. And the next. And possibly the next - I lose count.  _ I doubt they even care, I’m just a useless human anyway.  _ I wonder if any of the other demons have spent time torturing the likes of me before coming to the diner.  _ Probably. _

 

The only person who’s ever able to get me moving is Louise - mostly because I’m more afraid of her than anyone else; she leaves food at my door and threatens to break it down if I don’t eat. I have no doubt the door would let her in, if she wanted to make good on that threat.

 

By now, I know every crack in the wall by my bed. I also know every corridor and corner of the labyrinthine mansion from studying the map on my phone. Sometimes, when I’m feeling less like shit, I’ll explore - I’ll search for an empty room and sit in it instead of my own, letting the subtle differences distract me. Though I can’t bring myself to go to the waterfall room, I find myself pining for the lightness I felt in the first few moments I entered.

 

\--------------------------------

 

I don’t see Phil for almost two weeks, and I can’t decide if I’m grateful for the lack of contact or if it’s another knife being driven into my back. Either way, there’s dull, muted pang in my chest when he catches my eye from the end of the hall. I turn away, heading for the stairwell.

 

Which brings another sort of comfort: it’s dark because of the mural and as close to escaping as I can get without literally putting my life in danger by running out into the aether.  _ The demons need to keep their fun little human toy around a while longer _ . I grimace, not that anyone’s there to see it.

 

I’m momentarily startled - but not surprised - when the door opens behind me. Though my eyes remain trained on the soft pines of the mural, I know it’s Phil, but he doesn’t speak for a long moment.

 

It’s the clacking of claws that throws me off, that makes me turn. Zilant, Fireball, and Mack are standing next to me, though they don’t approach. Mack lets out a whine, stretching his neck toward me, but Zilant holds them all back.

 

“They missed you, Mack especially,” Phil’s voice echoes strangely in the silent space, but I don’t turn around. I nod at Zilant, and he and the brothers approach me slowly, as if I’m a spooked animal.  _ Which, of course, to  _ them  _ I am. _

 

_ That isn’t true, and you know it. _ Zilant’s voice in my head is unusual, after only hearing my own for so long.

 

_ No, but how do I know that won’t change? How do I know for sure? _ I rub Mack’s head absently, feeling oddly comfortable talking to the dog.

 

_ You don’t. You can’t.  _ I frown, feeling all three dog heads nuzzle at my arm and knee.  _ But he loves you. We all do. _ I feel tears prick at my eyes, so I scoff to hide the choking feeling in my throat. I stand abruptly, much to the indignation of the dogs, and begin to climb the stairs.

 

“Please…” Phil calls after me, though he doesn’t move to follow.  _ Good. Stay away from me.  _ I only have two more weeks until we’re meant to be back in the city. Then I can forget this whole thing ever happened.


	9. A Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's pissed when a mysterious gift shows up in his room.

I wake some morning, maybe a week later, to a strong woodsy scent surrounding me, though it isn’t cedar. Just the thought of the last time I smelled cedar sends me spiraling, so I squeeze my eyes until I see stars. When I finally recognize the current scent as pine, I roll over, away from my wall, to see a small potted pine sapling sat on the floor beside my bed.

 

There’s no note, no indication of how it got there, but there’s only one explanation.  _ How dare he invade my privacy, even just to conjure a stupid tree _ . A part of me is tempted to smash it, but then I’d just have dirt and pine needles all over my floor.  _ Besides, the tree didn’t do anything wrong. _ I stare at it for another few minutes before standing. Something about the pine scent, about the plant itself, makes me feel...almost protective.

 

I fill a cup from the bathroom sink and pour a fair amount over the base of the tree.  _ Shit, but how will it grow without sunlight? _ I find myself immensely concerned about the health of this tiny tree, barely reaching up to my waist, and I stand in silence for a solid minute before it hits me.  _ The waterfall room - somehow all the plants there grow and stay alive, it just needs to go there. _

 

_ Besides, _ the bitter part of me points out,  _ if Phil gave it to me, it should be somewhere that’s  _ his _ , not mine _ . I want no reminders of him, not now. Though it’s small, the sense of motivation is enough to get me moving.  _ I just want it out of my room _ . I tell myself that the entire way down the corridor, gripping the slightly-too-large pot awkwardly.

 

I have to take several breaks, especially in the stairwell - climbing the stairs has sapped me of most of my energy, and I decide to drag the pot across the carpet once I get it into the endless hallway; if memory serves, I have quite a long way before I reach the entrance to the waterfall room.

 

I almost give up completely three times: the third time, I actually just flop down next to the stupid thing and lean against the wall defeatedly.  _ Why am I going through so much damned effort for a tree? _ I’ve never been a huge plant person, and this  _ particular _ one is a gift - no, a  _ bribe _ \- from...well, whatever Phil is. An ex-boyfriend. An ex-friend. A  _ torturer _ . The last word is the one that sets me moving again, anger and fear fueling my progress; it’s the only word that makes me feel something  _ other _ than a hole in my chest.

 

At least I feel fire, then, even if it’s only for a moment. 

 

I hold a sweaty hand on the doorknob, wondering if it’s still keyed to me.  _ If it isn’t, I swear to god I’ll just dump this stupid thing all over- _ I jump when the zing hits my ears and the door swings inward; then, I’m hooking an arm around the pot and lifting it into the waterfall room.

 

Though it holds some really awful and distressing memories, I can’t help the awe that washes over me at seeing the whole spectacle again - the waterfalls are just as majestic as I remember, the plants just as vibrant.  _ The plants _ , my head reminds me, and I heft the pot into a more comfortable grip before setting off down one of the paths.  _ I think I remember seeing some other forest trees over here… _

 

I end up on the other side of the mountain before I see them, a huge collection of dark green that matches the pine needles currently scratching against my cheek. I also notice something distinctly un-plant-like, and nearly drop the pot when I recognize him. 

 

“What are you doing here,” I’m entirely monotonous; though my chest has been hurting just thinking about him, seeing him is another pain altogether.

 

“I could ask the same of you,” Phil nods, face completely stoic. “Where’d that come from?” I give my best ‘I’m not in the mood’ look and try to retain some composure as I pass him. Which is a challenge, given the ache in my heart. And in pretty much every other muscle.

 

Neither of us speaks until I set the pot down on the path beside the forest space, but I tense up the moment I hear him approach me.

 

“Dan-” he starts, but I whip around and stare, and he freezes in place. I hope my gaze is angry, not fearful. Not pained.

 

“No, look, I’m not here to talk. I didn’t even know you’d be here. I just want to put your damned tree somewhere it won’t die.” He looks shocked at my outburst, and I hold on to my anger as I search around for anything I can use to dig a hole. Phil’s silent, though I’m sure he knows what I’m looking for.

 

“Fine, where can I get a damn shovel?” I force the half-request out through gritted teeth, turning back to see Phil looking... _ is he afraid of me? _ I try to keep an angry glare, but I think it softens.  _ Damn him, damn all this _ . I can feel my self-control slipping.

 

“Dan…” Phil’s staring, but not at me. At the tree. “ _ Where did you get that. _ ” His voice is forceful, but almost as monotonous as mine was; I’m tempted to congratulate him on it, but his look gives me pause.

 

“Phil, you…” his name on my lips is almost as painful as hearing my name on his, but he doesn’t seem to notice my pause. “You gave me this…” I trail off, eyes drifting to the tree. “I just….I was going to put it…” I gesture lamely at the collection of forest trees and bushes, the dark crawling ivy. “With the other pine trees.” I finish lamely, turning back to Phil. Whose entire complexion has paled significantly.

 

“Dan,” he takes a slow step toward me, and I’m reminded of the way Zilant had treated me last week, like a spooked animal. Though now I’m starting to actually feel thoroughly spooked. “ _ What other pine trees? _ ”


	10. Hallucinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They aren't real.

My heart stops in my chest, and I suck in a breath.  _ The...the trees... _ I can see his eyes flash red from here, searching my thoughts for whatever I’m seeing.  _ Oh my god, am I seeing things? _ I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my nails into my hands.

 

“Dan, I need you to step over here  _ right now _ ,” His tone terrifies me, and my eyes fly open - I can already feel my breathing getting shakier by the second. When I turn my head to look beside me, the pine tree still looks completely normal. I take another step, then, spinning backwards to focus on the towering pines, cedar trees, oaks, the climbing ivy - all equally ordinary.  _ What’s happening to me? _ I hope Phil’s still listening.

 

I don’t blink til my back collides with Phil’s chest, and he wraps his arms around me protectively. My breaths are shallow as he leads me back to the door. Though he can’t actually  _ see _ them, his eyes never leave the trees. It  _ terrifies _ me.

 

Once the door is safely shut, the magical zing of the barrier suddenly a comfort, Phil holds me at arm’s length; his eyes are bright red, like tiny flames, and I let him search for whatever he needs to see.  _ Please just tell me what’s going on _ . Though it’s only a thought in my head, fear has me shivering uncontrollably.

 

“How long?” Phil’s voice is gruff, business-like, and I don’t know if that’s meant to assuage my fear or if I should be ready for something horrible to happen. “The hallucinations,  _ how long _ ?” He prompts again when I don’t respond.

 

Because it’s easier, I focus on anger, on indignation. Anything but fear. 

 

“How...how am...how the  _ fuck _ would I know? I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t, if it’s a fucking  _ hallucination _ !” I try to shout, but it comes out strangled and desperate. My breathing follows suit, and I feel exactly like that day in the aether - as if the entire world is coming for me, closing in around me.  _ What the fuck is going on? _

 

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Come on, let’s get you to PJ, he’ll know what to do,” I’ve squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get my breathing under control and failing miserably; the distress threaded through Phil’s voice is almost enough to send me completely spiraling. I’m wishing for the return of his unnervingly calm demeanor - a frightened Phil is not something I can handle right now.

 

He lifts me into his arms, and I wrap my arms around his neck and legs around his waist. As we move, I attempt to focus on the world around us: the pop of a portal, the churning nausea in my gut when we reach the other side, the feeling of PJ in my head, sifting through my thoughts the moment we arrive, the creak of the springs as Phil lowers me onto the bed, the soft hand that envelops mine when he settles next to me. We must be in PJ’s room. I hold onto these concrete facts, feelings, sounds. Until the scent of something different, something musky, invades the space.

 

“Dan, what do you mean it smells like the forest?” I can feel Phil tense beside me, his hand gripping mine just a bit tighter. 

 

“He was seeing trees, ones that weren’t there, in the waterfall room,” Phil adds, though I’m sure PJ’s already aware. “What’s going on? What’s happening to him? Is he okay?” Though my eyes are closed, it’s uncomfortable to have them talking as if I’m not there. But I can’t trust my vision - maybe not  _ any  _ of my senses, if nobody else can smell the cool, earthy scent of the forest that’s pervaded the room.

 

“Dan, I need you to think about anything you’ve experienced to do with trees, with forests. Anything  _ at all _ ,” PJ asks aloud, and I try. First the trees in the waterfall room, and I try to show him that they were there the last time, as well. Then the pine tree in my room.

 

“That wasn’t me, I didn’t…” Phil trails off with a shaking breath, and I can picture him running his free hand through his hair. 

 

“Focus, Dan,” PJ’s voice, and I try to think of anything else. As soon as I recall the soft, curling fog of the aether forest outside the diner, memories come flooding in. I choke out a sob when I think of the mural in the stairwell.

 

“Chris, check the stairwell. Look for a mural of a forest,” PJ orders, and I focus on the door slamming instead of the pain in my chest.  _ That wasn’t real?  _ I feel like the entire ground is crumbling under my feet, and I can’t do anything but stand still until the depths below suck me under. Phil wraps me in an embrace, one I assume is meant to comfort me, but I can feel him shaking as well. 

 

“Dan, I need you to think back as far as you can - when’s the first time you ever saw a forest or a tree  _ inside  _ the diner?” I get where he’s going with it, but I’m certain the first time was the mural in the stairwell. “Nothing before that? That doesn’t…”

 

_ The trees at the Christmas party. _ I suck in a breath, eyes flying open.

 

“Right after…” PJ pauses, dragging a hand over his face. The blueish hue drains from his skin, and green eyes meet mine when he looks up. “I think…” he turns toward Phil, and I can  _ see _ that they’re having a silent conversation, purposely excluding me. I stand, again searching for and clinging to my anger instead of the fear, the unknown. 

 

“No, no, you’re going to tell me what’s going on  _ right fucking now _ !” I shout, then jump when Chris flings the door open. And shakes his head.  _ No mural. I hallucinated that. A figment of my imagination. _ Tears roll down my cheeks; my heart shatters in my chest at the loss of something that gave me comfort when I had felt so low.

 

“Dan, I think…” PJ turns back toward me, pity crossing his features when he sees what a mess I must look like. “I think the aether... _ affected _ you,” I blink, trying to clear the blur from my eyes long enough to consider. 

 

“Right after I was stuck out there…” I collapse onto the bed with a huff, head in hands. Phil rubs tentative circles on my back. “Of course,” I lean back, then, barking a sardonic laugh at the ceiling. “Of  _ course _ . So what the fuck does that mean, then? I’m just going to hallucinate forests forever?”  _ Maybe if I get to keep the mural, I can deal with that. _

 

“No, I think…” PJ’s eyes dart to Phil briefly, but I don’t miss the look. “Maybe Phil should explain,” he offers, standing and pulling Chris from the room with him. When the door closes, the silence that engulfs us is almost suffocating.


	11. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil tries to explain.

“Phil,  _ please _ , what’s going on? What’s wrong with me?” The hallucinations...on their own, they don’t seem too bad.  _ I can cope with that. _ But PJ makes it sound so much more serious. I’m holding my breath, waiting for Phil to speak, to explain.

 

“You...there’s…” he’s struggling for words, and I can feel my heart rate escalating. “ _ Something _ out there, it got to you.” I watch his face, suddenly looking so defeated. “I didn’t...I couldn’t protect you. I thought I made it to you in time, but…” he won’t meet my eyes now, and his hand - which has been holding mine since we got here - pulls away.

 

“What do you mean, it  _ got to me _ ?” My voice is low, concerned and distressed. 

 

“It... _ it _ is the reason for your hallucinations. It’s trying to draw you out, back to the forest. I’m afraid…” I tense at the words.  _ Phil is afraid of this thing? _ He takes a breath, blowing it out before continuing. “I’m afraid it won’t stop, not until it has you. I can’t…” He trails off again, and I fight against the implications of what he’s just said.  _ Something is trying to lure me back, trying to... _ I don’t get to finish the thought, because Phil’s wrapped me in a tight hug.

 

“ _ I can’t lose you, _ ” his voice in my ear brings fresh tears to my eyes, and I bring my own shaking hands to his back. 

 

“ _ What do we do? How do we fix this _ ?” I ask, equally softly, and his breath shudders alongside mine. He pulls away, watering eyes fixing on my own, and his hands find my shoulders.

 

“We…” the word sends a shiver up my spine.  _ He’s in this with me.  _ Until he continues. “We don’t.” 

 

“What do you  _ mean _ , ‘we don’t’?” I stand, pulling away from him. “There  _ has _ to be something we can do!” I know I’m on the verge of shouting again, because this is a fucking  _ magical dimension _ , there  _ has _ to be something he can do to fix my head.

 

“I...I can’t. I can’t fix it. I can’t fix humans,” I wince at the word, a cruel reminder of how helpless I really am. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t know where to begin…” He looks so distraught, but I’m shaking for another reason. He’s just... _ giving up _ . 

 

“Okay, well, fine,” I argue, trying a different route. “I can just...it’s just hallucinations, right? I can just cope with that. You can just keep an eye on me, right? Make sure I don’t go outside?” I reason, running a hand through my own hair nervously.  _ Surely we can figure this out.  _ The irony of the situation - me, all but  _ begging _ him to put me in a protective bubble after so long spent trying to escape it - doesn’t escape me.

 

“Right now, yes, it’s just hallucinations. But it won’t stay that way, according to PJ. Either you’ll manage to get out there and it’ll get you, or you’ll…” he pauses again, and I wonder how he’s staying so calm - despite the trembling in his hands and voice, he’s been mostly level-headed throughout the whole conversation. “You’ll be driven to insanity…” he drops his gaze, focusing on my feet instead. 

 

“But-” I try, though I’m immediately cut off.

 

“No, you don’t understand. It’s  _ already happening _ .” He looks up, then, eyes full of pity. It makes me want to fucking  _ explode _ . “You’ve been an emotional wreck the past few weeks,” he points out, “distant and depressed sometimes, flying off the handle other times.” My mouth drops open at the implications.

 

 _He thinks…am I...I can’t even trust my own fucking emotions?_ _But…_ I stare at the space above Phil’s head, trying to recall my emotional state over the past few weeks. _He’s not wrong, I’ve been..._ the fighting, the hours spent staring at my bedroom wall, the mood swings. 

 

“No,” I barely mutter the word, but it can’t  _ all _ be because of the stupid aether-monster. It  _ can’t _ , because I have  _ every right _ to be upset with Phil for the fact that he  _ tortured  _ humans. Our conversation from the last time we were in the waterfall room fills my head, and I don’t hold back the fear and disgust that come along with it. I can see the red flashing in Phil’s eyes.

 

I let him see my past. I let him see my nightmares of torture, the ones in which he held a starring role. I let him see just how much  _ his _ past terrifies me. Then I storm out of the room.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Angry tears have begun to fall, though I find myself choking out a bitter laugh - they probably aren’t even  _ real _ tears, instead spilling from my eyes because of this  _ thing _ inside my head. Despite my new self-awareness, I can feel the tug in my chest suggesting that I seek the comfort of the aether forest.  _ It would be easy to just give in. _ I know they aren’t my words, my thoughts, but the idea is alluring.

 

I let my feet take me to the front of the diner, only stumbling when I see Chris and PJ stood at the door.

 

“You can’t go out there,” PJ’s voice is low, clearly trying not to draw attention from the patrons sat in the diner around us. _ I don’t care, just let me go. At least all this shit will be over with. _ Again, I have the pesky thought that  _ this isn’t me _ , that the words are coming from something else, but I don’t care. I don’t want to fight.  _ I’m just exhausted. _

 

“No, you’re not going anywhere. Not until we’re back in the city.” His tone holds a finality that surprises me, and my thoughts go spinning off into all kinds of directions.  _ Back in the city… _

 

I’m staring at the floor, trying to process what he’s just said, when two hands grip my arms - it’s not painful, but firm and unyielding - and I look up to see Chris and PJ leading me back to the hallway behind the diner. We don’t stop until they’ve returned me to PJ’s room, where Phil’s still sitting on the bed. A fresh wave of anger, of sadness and fear, washes over me. 

 

“Phil, can you please finish discussing this with him?” PJ’s tone is forceful, but he fixes Phil with a...pitying look. It’s odd to see that kind of stare given to anyone aside from me. 

 

Chris drags me over to the bed, pushing me down by the shoulder until I’m sat next to Phil again. This time, however, we aren’t left alone. The two are towering over us both, waiting impatiently. I turn to Phil, who looks incredibly distressed - if possible, even more so than earlier. I hold my breath.

 

“When we get back to the city…” he starts, and I feel a pang in my chest. I’ve already connected the dots, I know exactly where this is going, but it hurts to hear him say it. “You need to stay. You can’t be down here, with the aether all around us. It would…” he pauses, and I can see the strain on his face. His eyes never leave me, though, and I can’t tell if it’s disconcerting or comforting. “It would  _ kill _ me if I lost you.”

 

His hand reaches for mine, and I don’t pull away.

 

“I would rather…I would rather know you’re safe, up there, than risk putting you in danger down here.” Tears blur my vision for the fucking  _ eightieth  _ time today, and his words rip a hole in my chest. 

 

“I  _ love _ you.”  _ Oh. _ If his earlier words hurt me, these send me spiraling.  _ I love you too. _ I can’t say it out loud, I can’t bear to listen to my throat choke on the admission, I can’t...When his arms wrap around me, I just sob instead.  _ I love him, and I have to leave. _

 

We stay that way for a long time, though I have no idea how long. I’m not sure when PJ and Chris leave us alone, but I’m grateful for the privacy. Grateful I can break down completely, without any other eyes on me. 

 

_ And here I was, worried about the  _ physical _ torture I might have to endure. _


	12. A New Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So uh. Soz.
> 
> The diner returns above ground.

I’ve been under Phil’s guard for the past four days, though I haven’t really felt like being far from him anyway. Any motivation I had, even just to run outside and give myself up to the aether-monster, has dissolved into nothingness. Emptiness. I fill my heart with Phil instead.

 

“ _ Phil _ your heart,” his voice, his soft breath against my hair, pulls me out of my head and into the room. A soft, half-hearted chuckle follows, and I smirk despite myself.

 

“Phil, that was the  _ worst _ pun ever,” I smile wider when he squeezes me, but the light mood fades quickly.  _ Today’s the day. _

 

“I know, I know,” though he responds aloud, we’re both well aware he’s not acknowledging the horrible pun. We arrive in the city today, according to PJ - he’s been running things since they discovered what had happened to me; Phil hasn’t left my side for more than a few minutes at a time.

 

Nor have the dogs, who jump onto the bed and lap at my face. Zilant is up to speed on what’s going on, as are his brothers, but they’ve still been trying their best to convince me to stay. 

 

“I would if I could,” I let out a sad chuckle, scratching behind Mack’s ear. He whines, then nuzzles into my neck. Phil presses a sympathetic kiss to my head moments before a knock sounds at the door.

 

I take a breath, feeling the emptiness pool back in my stomach. The dogs’ ears perk up, and Phil freezes beside me. 

 

“Hey, we’re here,” Chris’ voice is unusually quiet, and it only serves to solidify the reality of what’s about to happen.

 

We’ve planned it out, and I’ve somehow managed to keep my composure during our discussions to finalize all the details. The diner is expected to stay for about a month, given how little aether there is up here; I’ll spend that time looking for a job, with Chris, PJ, and Phil as references. They all seem reasonably confident I can stay at the diner until they have to leave, since there’s no way for the aether-monster to lure me while we’re up here. 

 

At the end of the month, when they have to leave...I shut my eyes at the thought. It’s easier to live on the precipice than remind myself of the inevitable plunge into the abyss below.

 

“Come on,” Phil stands, and Zilant hops off the bed beside him. I take Phil’s proffered hand, trying to ignore the slight shaking in my own. Standing, walking beside him down the corridor, it all feels so... _ final _ . In spite of the fact that we still have time, however short, the crushing weight of this reality is painful.  _ I’ll be alone again. _

 

“Never alone,” Phil’s hand leaves mine, then his arm is wrapped around my waist. It’s awkward to walk through the doors, to get to the front of the diner, but neither of us seems able to break the shoulder-to-hip connection. We don’t know how many more chances we’ll have to be this close.

 

“You know that isn’t true,” I retort, though my words don’t hold much force; I’m just drained at this point. I can see the city through the windows in front of us, looking both foreign and familiar at the same time. Each slow step we take toward the door sends a shooting pain through my heart.

 

\------------------------

 

The first trip outside was more challenging for Phil than for me, if I’m being honest; he’s hardly seen anything of humanity in eons, choosing to stay inside whenever the diner was docked up here. In spite of that, we adjust to a new routine rather quickly - it only took us a week to secure me a job at a restaurant a few blocks away, and all my free time is spent with Phil, trying to explain whatever intriguing human custom he’s currently latched onto. The concept of vlogging, in particular, has been his fascination since he learned of it; Chris thought it was hilarious when we came back the first evening and Phil made us all watch videos of our uneventful day from awkward selfie angles.

 

Today’s one of the rare days we don’t spend together, though - Phil’s got some errands he can’t avoid, and our schedules just don’t line up, so I’ve been wandering the streets aimlessly for the past few hours. I feel as though I already know the city by heart - old instincts had kicked in the moment we arrived, so I’ve got a clear mental map - but I’ve been perusing the various shops with purpose.

 

I shove my hands into my pockets, the slight breeze ruffling my hair and sending a chill down my back. It’s early March, but the weather hasn’t yet agreed with the calendar; the air still carries a bite, and I know I’m a bit underdressed.

 

Regardless, I continue my trek. I feel the twisting in my gut at the thought, but Phil and the diner will be leaving soon - I still can’t bear to ask him to stay, no matter how much my heart is begging me to, so I’ve settled on something else, something that’ll have to do: I’m trying to find something to give him so he won’t forget me. So he  _ can’t _ forget me. I clench my fists in the pocket of my coat, finding some kind of solace in the sharp sting of fingernails digging into my palms. 

 

Though I’m still scanning the signs I pass, hoping something will stick out, I can’t help the way my thoughts wander. As PJ predicted, being in the city seems to have all but cured me - I’m rarely distant the way I was a month ago, and nowhere near as emotional.  _ Even when I think about the future. _ The mural in the stairwell has faded almost to nothing - rough outlines are still visible, hinting at trees and stars, but it doesn’t pull me in the way it had before.

 

What’s better - or worse, perhaps - is that Phil and I have moved beyond any grudges I had for his history. A piece of me wants to be angry, wants to hold his past crimes against him, wants to cling tightly to my old fears and old assumptions, but my heart just isn’t in it any longer; I know he’d never hurt me, and I’d so much rather spend what time we have left  _ happy _ \- or as close to it as we can be, with his leaving hovering over us like a black cloud.

 

It’s at this moment I notice a small electronics shop, tucked away in a corner but made to stand out with a window full of neon signs. I’m briefly reminded of mine and PJ’s trip to the Underground, though this shop is unfortunately devoid of any magical curiosities. 

 

I push inside anyway, letting the warm, stale air of the place wash over me. I don’t have a huge amount of money saved - even less, now that I’ve put down a deposit on the tiny flat I’ll be moving into once the diner’s gone - but I make my way toward the back of the store, where a bunch of nice cameras are on display.

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

The store owner was incredibly kind, and we came to a payment plan I could manage with my new job. The camera is a heavy but comforting weight in the plastic bag, and I find myself smiling as I head in the general direction of the diner. 

 

Along the way, I ponder exactly how I want to present it to him - Phil’s become increasingly enamored with the idea of creating videos, chronicling little snippets of his life, and I want to give him something a little more sophisticated than just a phone to do it on. But I also want...the gift is meant to be a  _ reminder  _ \- that I exist, that I’m waiting for the next time he returns.

 

_ I’ll film myself talking to him tonight,  _ I decide, already sifting through my head for the words to leave him with. They have to be just right, they have to be everything I need him to hear.  _ They have to make him want to come back. _ I try not to think too much about that last bit.  _ Of course he’ll want to come back _ . Doubt swirls in my gut anyway, and I resolve to pour every piece of my heart into these videos.

 

I don’t want him to forget how much I love him.

 

It’s a solid twenty minutes before the familiar exterior of the diner comes into view, though I’ve been so lost in thought that it feels like it’s been less than five. By the time I cross the street, heading toward the front door, I realize there’s something... _ off _ . 

 

_ The diner. _ I can see through the windows into an empty, dusty space - no hint of the vibrant 50’s-American decor, no bustling waitstaff, no chatting patrons.  _ Nothing.  _ In a burst of urgency, I sprint across the vacant parking lot, slamming against the locked front door with a force I didn’t know I possessed.  _ No….they… _ hot tears are already slipping down my cheeks, but I pound against the glass anyway. As if that’ll make the diner come back.  _ As if that’ll make Phil come back _ .

 

The doors don’t budge, the interior remains painfully empty, and I collapse in a heap on the concrete.  _ They left, they didn’t even say goodbye, and they just left me... _ a part of me reasons that they didn’t  _ know _ , that it’s hard to say with the way the diner travels, but... _ they...Phil didn’t even warn me… _

 

I don’t know how long I sit there, camera clutched desperately in my lap; I’m shaking, some combination of anger and desperation and hatred and pining clawing its way through me. Only when my throat is raw and the tears have almost frozen on my cheeks do I stand and register that night’s already fallen. Gingerly, I pull the camera from its bag and packaging as I meander toward the flat I’ll be calling home.  _ How can it be a home without Phil? _

 

“Hey, Phil,” I try a smile, but I know it can’t be very convincing. My eyes feel swollen and puffy, and I can barely keep the tremor out of my voice. The camera shakes a bit as well - the angle is awkward, and I’m nowhere near stable; I’d imagined Phil setting this up in a fixed location to record short anecdotes from his day, which he’d been doing more frequently in the time before... _ before he left _ .

 

“You twat, you left me alone here,” I start, choking out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “So I’m off to the flat, though I really wish I were going back to the diner. Back to you,” I drop my eyes from the lens, staring at the dark pavement as I walk.

 

“But enough about that, I meant to give you this before you left, something of a parting gift. I was gonna ramble on for ages, so you’d be able to see me even when we aren’t together.” I take a deep breath. “So you’d remember me,” my voice drops to a whisper, and - though I know Phil’s not watching, that he may  _ never _ see this, I can’t bear to hold eye contact with the lens - “ _ So you’d come back. _ ” 

 

I babble aimlessly to the camera as I walk, fumbling and nearly dropping it when I stop at the door to my building to fish out my key. The flat, when I enter, is relatively bare - a tattered sofa, twin bed, and microwave are about the extent of my amenities, but it’s sufficient. I give ‘Phil’ a tour, then collapse onto the bed and talk to the camera for a few more hours; I only force myself to stop when the battery light flashes an angry red at me. 

 

Once it’s plugged in, I return to the bed and curl around the pillow. It’s not the same - it’s nowhere near the warmth of Phil’s arm around me, nor the soft circles he’d draw on my arm, nor the lazy half-asleep kisses we’d share, but I pretend anyway. I pretend it’s enough.

 

_ This has to be enough. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies! If you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/170305617892/demons-and-diners-masterlist)


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